I swear, I wasn't eavesdropping!
by i need sleep
Summary: Maybe pretending to be asleep was the best thing she'd done in a while. But it was all she can do, so I guess it doesn't count... Egoshipping.


**I swear, I wasn't eavesdropping!  
An Egoshipping Fanfiction  
by: **i need sleep

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**A/N: **A oneshot to ease the boredom of waiting for the next chapter of _Being Second._

**Disclaimer: **No, I still don't own Pokemon.

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She was sick, and she knew it.

No, no, not sick as in, "I hate this thing cause I've done it so much," but sick as in, "I can't open my eyes anymore let alone get up" kind of sick.

Misty Waterflower was sick, and lonely, and she hated it.

She hated the fact that her eyes felt like they were about to burn out of their sockets; the fact that she seemed to be wrapped in layers upon layers of cling-film and placed in a burning hot oven; and the fact that there was no one to talked to and nothing to do. Her sister, Daisy, refused to leave a radio in her room. She had said that Misty would be unable to turn it off, and it would distract her from sleeping. That is how Misty found herself, alone on a Friday night, curled up in her room, bored to tears.

She feared crying though. She thought her tears would evaporate even before they got out, and the thought freaked Misty out so much she refrained from crying.

It was too hot to sleep. To do anything.

She heard the door open and shut, and she struggled to open her eyes. It was a losing battle, so she kept it closed. Curled up at her side, she waited for Daisy to tap her shoulder and tell her it was time to drink her meds.

But the voice didn't sound like it belonged to Daisy. Or a woman.

"Hi, Red," the voice, which she recognized as a male's, said, in a barely audible whisper. "I know you're not dying. And I know you're not in the hospital, but I brought you flowers anyway. My sister told me it helps people get better."

_How, pray tell?_ Misty thought bitterly as she maintained her pokerface. _Do they creep up on me and suck the sickness away?_ She wanted to reply, but she didn't have the strength to do anything. Moaning would startle the male away, and that was just about all she can do.

The voice chuckled, probably thinking her asleep. "Hah. What am I even doing here?"

_That's right! _Misty agreed, nodding inwardly. _What _are_ you doing here, whoever you are? I don't even know you!_

"If only you knew, huh, Scarlet," he chuckled again. This man seemed cheerful. "You'd probably laugh your head off."

_Why?_

"The Great and Arrogant Gary Oak," he said, and Misty just about gasped but held it in. This is too exciting to pass up or interrupt; "Gary Oak, not partying on a Friday night but here he is," he paused. "Visiting a friend."

He paused again. "Or maybe just an acquaintance."

Misty's thoughts were blank. _Why…?_

"I don't really hate you, Waterflower," Gary's voice rang clear in her room, soft but audible. "I just… hated the fact that I gave you a wrong first impression. I know I used to be arrogant. Maybe I even still am, but I thought, back then, that I had the right to be. I thought I was better than Ash—than anyone!"

He chuckled, "But I was wrong. There are so many other trainers out there that are better than me. Better than I ever was and I can ever be." Bitterness crept in his voice. "Battling Pokémon… Maybe it wasn't for me.

"I prefer studying them, you know? Not testing things on them, but finding out more about them. Their links with each other, etc. I wanted to know where every Pokémon started. How they were similar to each other, though they all have different types. I want to know how some Pokémon like Chinchou have two types that usually are pitted against each other. I just… My brain, it's swarming with all these questions and I…"

He paused. "Oh, god," he said. "If only they knew I'm in here, talking to a sick, unconscious gym leader instead of partying, they'd call me stupid. And creepy."

She felt a hand brush her hair back, and if it were possible, her face would've gone warmer.

"Ooh. You are hot."

_I know. _

"Temperature wise, that is. You look like the puberty train hasn't hit you yet," he scoffed. "You're flat as a board."

_Why you—_

"But I think that's cute, you know?" He asked, and she dared not to reply. "Because, well… You have your own charm. Girls with really big boobs – and I mean _really_ big – tend to put me off. I really don't want other guys to ogle my girl. I mean, you're very pretty, just… It would make me feel better if guys compliment my girl's face and not her boobs.

"But I guess I really don't care much about a girl's appearance. I mean, of course I want you—I mean, my girl – to shower everyday and brush her hair… I meant I don't care if she's fat or thin or whatever. I know the media think that because I'm rich and famous I'd want the hottest thing with a vagina I can get. Well… That's not true. I don't care much about a girl's appearance. I care more about her attitude. I mean, what use is a beautiful girl to me if we don't get along _at all,_ girl I have no common ground with, and what use is she if we get along too well?

"My ideal girl," he started, and Misty found herself clinging to his every word. "I want her to be opposite. Not too opposite that all we'd do is argue, but opposite enough to keep things fresh, if you know what I mean. I don't want to date a carbon copy. I want to date someone who can bring out things in me, from one end of the spectrum to the other. I want a girl who can… I don't know, give me opinions I've never even considered before. Things like that."

Misty froze.

"Someone like you, I guess." He stopped, and the room was plunged in silence.

"If you were awake, you'd have freaked and slapped me," he said, "But if you were awake, I wouldn't have had the _guts_ to even say that. I wouldn't even have had the guts to come in this very room!"

_But you did._

"But I did," he said, and she heard something creaking. "And it's worth it."

Soft footsteps pitter-pattered like rain. "Goodbye, Misty," Gary said, close to her ear. "I know I'm risking castration doing this, but I thought I'd like to be close."

Misty didn't feel as if it was an invasion of private space. Well, maybe it was, a bit.

"Misty Waterflower," Gary whispered. "When you wake up and get better, I'm going to ask you to be my girlfriend."

She felt something soft on her forehead, and the soft thing pulled away.

"Thanks for that, Misty," Gary said, "I needed to tell you all that."

And she heard the door slam shut, softly.

Misty, with all her strength, rolled on her back and thought things over till her brain felt fried.

-o-

A week passed and she eventually got better.

She felt extremely bad that the flowers had wilted and died, but Daisy didn't know much about flowers and neither did she. She looked at them soon as she opened her eyes and marvelled them in their dried up glory.

He didn't come back, at all – he must've heard she was well – and this disappointed Misty a tiny bit. She had been thinking about it and realized that the young prodigy did have a point, and decided that, if ever he did ask her out on a date, that she will give him a go and a yes, and be as unprejudiced as she can be.

However, as the days passed, she found herself wondering if it was just a dare, or some sort of joke.

_Only one way to find out._

_-o-_

After a week long trip to Hoenn, Gary found himself on the living room couch, trying to catch up on the sleep he had lost. Staring blankly at the TV, he watched as the moving pictures changed. He couldn't sleep, yet he was immensely tired.

"Oh, Gary," his older sister, May, sang as she plopped herself at the end of the couch he was lying on. "You might want to…" she giggled, giving him a sly look. He raised his eyebrow. What was wrong with her? "You might want to check your lab."

With a wink, she patted his foot and walked off.

With newfound vigour, he got up and off the couch and ran towards his lab. Pushing the door open, he gasped in shock when he saw a bouquet of flowers and a now organized desk. He walked off towards the flowers and looked for a note.

"To the 'Great and Arrogant Gary Oak'," The note began, and Gary found himself scoffing. _Must be from a fan girl_, he thought. _But wait. If it was, they wouldn't start of like that._ Stumped, he carried on reading.

"You might be wondering who in the world this is. You might even be tempted to check the sender, BUT don't do that, because all the surprise will be lost. I want you to read this note without prejudice. Don't worry, I'm not a fangirl. I never was, ever. Anyway, I have a tiny space to write on, and if I write any smaller you won't be able to read anything. So here we are.

"When you work up the courage to ask, my answer will be yes.

"P.S. If you want to know who this is, check the back of the letter.

"P.P.S. I wasn't eavesdropping."

His blood went cold, and nervously, he turned the paper over and found a tiny caricature.

That of a certain red-headed gym leader.

The photo was signed "Tracey Sketchit", and on the bottom was "Misty Waterflower xoxo" and a heart.

Shocked, he dropped the paper and ran back out, unaware of his older sister watching from her room at the end of the hallway. She smiled as she set her book down, amused of her brother's reaction.

_-o-_

The doorbell rang, and Misty, herself answered it.

"Oy, the gym's clo—" Frown. "Oh, it's only you."

Pant. "Yeah. So?"

Silence. "Nothing." Shrug. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing." Awkward silence. "Well, actually."

Inward gush. "What is it?"

"Misty Waterflower?"

"Yes, Gary Oak?"

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

_-o-_

There are many things Misty Waterflower hates.

And goodness knows Gary Oak isn't one of them.

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**A/N: **One of the sappiest pieces I've ever written this week. I'm not even kidding. This seems too rushed to me.

I hope you enjoyed it, nevertheless, cause I had fun writing it. :)


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